


It's a lot like life and that's what's appealing

by Anonymous



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Blatant disregard for laboratory safety standards, Hate Sex, Love sex?, M/M, Tempestuous relationship, a little bit of spanking, as a treat, kinda kinky but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Listen, Hermann," Newton begs, "I don't want to talk about this right now. Why don't we call a timeout on this fight and take it up again tomorrow? Or at least until---""Or we could fuck it out instead," Hermann offers.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 143
Collections: Anonymous





	It's a lot like life and that's what's appealing

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly stolen from the lyrics of Master and Servant by Depeche Mode, which is definitely in Newt's lab playlist.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Hermann! I said I was sorry," Newt shouts from across the room as he dodges another piece of equipment aimed at his head.

"You cannot simply apologize for the years of trouble you've caused me," Hermann spits out as he scans the room for something else to throw. How Newton never fails to get him into this state, he doesn't know. And he's running out of replaceable, affordable ammunition.

Newt finally snaps as he sees Hermann reach for a box of spare chemical glassware. "You know what? You're right man, I'm not sorry!” He ducks under a table as glass shatters around him. “It was a fucking accident, which you would understand if you were a normal person and not such an asshole!"

Hermann's eyes go wide, then deadly narrow, as he tosses the box aside and charges as fast as his cane allows him straight towards the other man.

Newt is all set to dash out of the lab and hide in his room until Hermann cools off (which he seems to have to be doing more and more often these days), but as he reaches the doorway he crashes into none other than Marshal Pentecost.

Newt and Hermann both go silent.

"I don't presume to know what you two are fighting about," Pentecost says, in a low, seething tone, "nor do I care to." He brushes Newt aside as he enters the room. "What I do know is this: you two have scared away the entirety of your research staff with your incessant fighting, and it ends now. I do not care how much you hate each other; if you value your careers, you will shake hands and get back to work without another sound."

Something unknown flashes in Newt's gaze as the two make uneasy eye contact. He takes a cautious step towards Hermann, then stops, waiting for him to make a move.

"Doctor Gottlieb!" Pentecost shouts.

Hermann shakes his head as if to clear it, then grips his cane with white knuckles and makes his way to the lab's entrance. He stops a foot from Newton.

Pentecost glares. "Now shake hands or I swear to you, I will not hesitate to cut them off."

Hermann switches his cane to his left hand and shoves his right arm out roughly. Newton follows suit. The handshake is tight and tense and sweaty and seems to last forever, and the second Pentecost nods and leaves the room, they split apart as if they had been burned. Newt is dramatically wiping his hand on his shirt when, in a flash, Hermann's hand darts out and grasps his skinny black tie. He pulls Newton to his face and speaks quickly and quietly.

"This is not over, you wretched little man. Just because I will play nice for the Marshal does not mean I-" He stops.

Newton's expression has gone from terrified to... something else entirely. Hermann looks down.

"Are you seriously becoming aroused right now?" Hermann sneers, "Absolutely pathetic."

"Listen, Hermann," Newton begs, "I, I don't want to talk about this right now. Why don't we call a timeout on this fight and take it up again tomorrow? Or at least until-"

"How can you _possibly_ be turned on by this?"

"It's- it's just," Newton stammers, "it's just a reaction, okay. It's not like I _like_ you or anything." He gulps- Hermann's hand is still wrapped in his tie and pulling it taut- and when Newton speaks again, it's in no more than a whisper, "Look, please just let me go. I'm sorry, and if you don't believe me I'll... I dunno, I'll make it up to you later somehow."

"Or we could... well, we could fuck it out instead," Hermann offers, before he even has the chance to second-guess his own motivations. Or his language. He isn't ever so... _explicit_. 

Newton's eyes widen and Hermann can see him swallow before he responds. "Are you... are you serious?"

Hermann sighs. He's been asking himself the same question. "Quite."

And before Newton can say anything, Hermann whips him around and pins him against the nearest desk. He shifts his hand from Newton's tie to the back of Newton's hair and yanks his head back. He brings his face to Newton's ear.

"Are you amenable to that?"

He can feel every puff of Newton's breath on his neck.

"Oh my God, dude, yes."

And with that, the two are kissing. It's messy, and it's mean, and Newton's glasses are in the way and he won't stop biting and there is entirely too much tongue, but it... isn't awful.

It would be a lie to say Hermann wasn't enjoying himself. And it would be a lie to say Hermann hadn't thought about doing this before. Kissing Newton in the middle of a fight to shut him up. Bending him over a desk after an argument and spanking his backside. Doing... other things to his backside. Out of frustration, obviously. Not for any other reason. 

Before he can even think about it, Hermann finds himself grinding against Newton's too-tight jeans. Newton pulls back and licks his lips. "Hey wait, let me go."

"What?" Hermann is surprised by how raspy his own voice is.

"I need to get... stuff. You know." Newton flushes and averts his eyes. "Lube and stuff. I'm not going to let you fuck me dry, dude," he laughs, "no matter how pissed you are."

Hermann steps back, rolls his eyes, and gestures with his hand. Given the tenting of his trousers, he's sure he looks as comical as he feels. Newton scrambles off the desk and runs to his side of the lab, where he rifles through a drawer and emerges with a small bottle.

He tosses it across the room to Hermann, who catches it instantly and refuses to think about why his lab partner keeps lube in his work desk.

"Get over here and take your bloody trousers off."

Newton shimmies out of his skinny jeans and boxers as he crosses the room. He hops back up on the desk and wiggles his eyebrows.

Hermann rolls his eyes. "I'd rather have you bent over. I still don’t particularly want to look at you."

Newton blushes, a full-body flush that reaches from his round face to the head of his cock that pokes out from beneath his shirt, but he complies.

As soon as Newton is situated bent over the desk, Hermann runs a hand underneath his shirt and along his back. Newton shivers, and Hermann ignores the bizarre clench of his chest at the sight.

He grabs the soft flesh of Newton’s ass with both hands and kneads until the skin’s flushed red, then he runs his thumb down the crack and over Newton’s hole. He does it again, and again, then slicks up his fingers and presses two in straight away. Newton whines, but keeps still, and Hermann wastes no time in working him open.

Newton is being uncharacteristically quiet. Hermann searches for Newton’s prostate and rubs over it. He wants Newton screaming, God help him. He wants to hear all those wretched little noises that so annoy him any other time but now would only serve to egg him on. Newton writhes and lets out a little squeal. Hermann leaves one hand in his ass and smacks him with the other.

Newton finally speaks, his voice cracking. “Come on, man, please just-”

Hermann spanks him again, and Newton chokes out a little sob.

“Do you like that, you little brat?” He doesn’t actually think Newton is a brat, not really. But he simply can’t ignore the way Newton moves and cries beneath him in response to his ministrations (and to be honest, he’s still angry over the only copy of his manuscript draft being ruined by misplaced kaiju entrails) so he hits him again. And again. And again.

Newton’s ass is angry red and Newton is writhing, trying desperately to grind himself against the desk. Hermann eventually pulls his hand - four fingers still shoved up Newton’s ass - free, takes out his aching cock, and slicks himself up. He presses the tip to Newton’s entrance and rubs it up and down Newton’s twitching hole. He needs to start keeping condoms in the lab, he thinks, as he pushes in.

He groans as he bottoms out. Newton does too, and as his head drops to the top of the desk, Hermann pulls out and begins slamming into him with no hesitation. Hermann has both hands full of Newton’s soft hips, and he knows he’s gripping hard enough to leave bruises under Newton’s colourful tattoos, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Somehow, this was the logical end to years of verbal sparring and venomous glares, and, though he would never admit it aloud, Hermann would do it all over again just to get to have Newton in his hands again like this.

Eventually, Newton’s soft whines turn to full on moans, and he’s shaking beneath him.

“Fuck, please… Hermann, I can’t- oh God I can’t come like this-” Newton reaches for his cock, but the awkward positioning of the desk and of Hermann’s bad leg makes it impossible. “I can’t come like this, please, Hermann. Hermann, please.”

Hermann is well past the point of slowing down- his leg is starting to twitch and he can feel his orgasm beginning to stir low in his gut- but it’s the begging that does it. It's pathetic and honestly? A bit sweet. He reluctantly stops thrusting and pulls out. Taking his heavy, wet cock in one hand, he uses the other to help Newton up and around, and-

He is wholly unprepared for the sight before him. Newton’s eyes, wet with unshed tears, are glistening, his round cheeks flushed red, his freckles standing out in a way Hermann’s never noticed before. His eyes rake down Newton’s body, still covered by a now-wrinkled shirt hiked up over his belly, down the dark trail of hair to his fat, leaking cock. He’s, well… he’s kind of beautiful.

“Here, um,” Newton shoves some papers off the desk and hops up, tugging off his stupid skinny tie and spreading his legs unceremoniously.

Hermann hesitates a second too long.

Newton chews his lip, “you okay, dude? I was kind of hoping to get back to the-”

He can’t finish his sentence because Hermann captures his mouth once more.

The kiss is just as aggressive as the last, but sweeter, somehow. Hermann’s tries not to think too much into it. He still hates the man, doesn’t he? He kisses across Newton’s face, his nose, biting at his stubbly jaw, and buries his face in Newton’s throat as he parts his soft thighs and lines himself back up.

He pushes in slowly this time, savoring the remarkable way Newton opens up for him. He bites and kisses at the juncture of Newton’s shoulder, and begins a slow thrust in and out of Newton's tight ass.

It only takes a few moments to notice Newton has once again gone silent. Without slowing his pace, Hermann sinks his teeth into Newt's shoulder and runs his hand underneath his sweat-soaked shirt. He takes Newton's nipple in his fingers and gives it a firm pinch. Newton squirms and lets out a small whimper, but makes no other noise save the heavy breathing that fills the room. Hermann rolls his nipple between his fingers, a little rougher than would probably be polite, and thrusts harder. Newton still doesn’t say anything. Hermann frowns, and suddenly becomes aware of a wet feeling on his neck. He reluctantly pulls back to look at Newton.

Newton’s expression has gone slack. His eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open. Tears are pouring down his face. He looks so vulnerable and unbarred that Hermann’s heart breaks a little.

“Newton, are you alright?” Hermann says, softly, before he can stop himself. He stills his slide in and out of Newton’s body.

Newt lets out a wet laugh and smiles, eyes still closed, “I’m fine, man, what- what’s wrong?”

“Well, you’re crying.”

“It’s- it’s just been a while, man. It’s all good. You’re... all good. This, this is great.”

"I'm glad to, ah, hear it." He picks up the pace of his thrusts a little.

Newt opens his eyes. He looks almost bashful, “Can you…” he hesitates, “Will you touch me?"

Hermann hums in agreement- let it not be said that he's an inconsiderate bed partner- and takes hold of Newton’s leaking cock. He strokes it firmly, if clumsily, and Newt chokes out a sigh of relief.

Hermann resumes fucking into Newton in earnest, and almost instantly, Newton starts getting weepy again. 

It's too good- Newton clenching around him, Newton's fat cock leaking into his hand, Newton's sobs every time he bottoms out- Hermann can't help but wonder why they didn't just do this sooner. He's beginning to forget why there were even fighting in the first place. 

Hermann’s hip and leg are starting to ache something awful now, but before he as a chance to worry about it, Newton comes without warning, crying out and spilling all over his shirt and Hermann’s hand.

Newton orgasms for what seems like an eternity. Hermann fucks him through it (gently, he’s not a _complete_ asshole), and is about to pull out and finish himself off when Newton crosses his legs behind his back and pulls him back in.

“O-Oh,” Hermann stutters.

“Come on, Hermann,” Newt hiccups through tears, “finish in me. I- I know you want to.” He unbuttons his ruined shirt. Tugging it off, he leans up and kisses Hermann’s cheek.

And with that, Hermann doesn’t have to think twice before he resumes pounding his way into the man. Newton lets out a sob from the overstimulation, but pushes his hips up to meet Hermann’s every thrust. He has his arms around Hermann’s neck and is hanging on for dear life, head buried in Hermann’s shoulder, and is letting out the most delicious little sounds. Before long, Hermann is on the precipice.

“Come in me, man,” Newton says, “I wanna feel it so bad,” and turns his head and kisses him.

Hermann comes the instant their lips touch.

Newton whines into Hermann’s mouth as he feels Hermann, burning hot, filling him up. Hermann groans and kisses back, finally, though his kisses are lazy and sloppy now post-orgasm.

The gentle kisses eventually slow to a stop, and Hermann moves to pull out. His heart is still racing and he feels his stomach churning. What would become of them now? 

“Wait, ah-” Newton locks his legs tighter around Hermann’s waist. “Will you, um… will you just hold me for a little while longer?”

Hermann can’t bring himself to argue with that.


End file.
